32.—A rattling exchange of hits; a close at the ropes, and Mason got down, amidst the cheers of his friends. Broome rather groggy from the heavy deliveries in the last round, and the brandy-bottle on his side in requisition.
33 and 34.—Short and merry rallies, in both of which compliments were exchanged, and Mason got down on his knees.
35.—Broome delivered two heavy lunging hits with his left at the body; a rally and heavy exchanges, when Broome caught his man in the corner and again grappled him round the neck with his arm as if in the folds of a boa constrictor. Here he held him for a considerable time, till Mason got each leg in succession over the ropes, and snatched his pimple out of chancery, as he rose making a desperate upper cut with his right, which he luckily missed, for had he struck his man when outside of the ropes, he would have lost the fight on the ground of foul play.
36.—Broome, although fatigued, came up with unshrinking spirit. Heavy counter-hits with the left, when Mason overreached himself, missed, and fell.
37.—Mason evidently less confident. He was slow to the call of time, while Broome rushed to his work, hit out left and right, bored his man to the ropes, and again clasped him in his vice till he fell.
38.—Broome, apparently regaining fresh energy, the moment time was called rushed to his man, led off left and right, closed at the ropes, and, after some in-fighting, Mason got down, Broome falling over him, evidently with the intention of avoiding falling on him.
39.—Broome, becoming still gayer, got to work without delay, popped in a stinger at the body with his right, and after an exchange of facers, closed at the ropes. Mason struggled and fell back, Broome hitting with his right, and falling on him. It was now seen that Mason was satisfied, and after a short consultation with his friends, he declined proceeding with the contest, declaring that he felt he had no chance, for he could not get at his man, and his power of hitting was exhausted. At this time his left eye was completely bunged up, and his face, mouth, and nose were seriously contused; added to which he complained that both his hands were injured. Under these circumstances Johnny Walker saw it was in vain to protract the combat, and gave in on the part of Mason, who immediately stood up and shook hands with his opponent, who was proclaimed the conqueror, after fighting one hour and twenty-one minutes, greatly to the disappointment and vexation of many of Mason’s friends, who considered that he was still able to continue the mill, and probably make a turn in his favour. None, however, know so well where the shoe pinches as he who wears it, and Mason was sufficiently satisfied with the dressing he had received, without adding to its severity. On quitting the ring after being dressed, Broome was so elated with his success, that he threw three successive somersaults, thus proving that his strength and activity, at least, were unimpaired, although the disfigurement of his “dial” afforded pretty strong evidence of the severity of Mason’s hitting.
Remarks.—The issue of this battle has placed Young Harry in a very creditable position, and proved him to possess the first of the requisites for a professor of pugilism—courage, combined with perfect self-possession and a fair share of science. He is quick on his legs, and possesses the happy knack of using both hands with vigour and effect. He never once lost the control over his own actions, and between the rounds nursed and husbanded his strength with the cunning and calmness of a veteran. He was always first on his legs on the call of time, and almost invariably led off with his left with precision and success. It is clear that he knows the use of his legs; and had not Bully known how to foil his intentions he would no doubt have shown him a quick way to his mother earth. If there was any fault to be found with his style of fighting, it was in his repeated hanging on his man at the ropes. It ought not to be forgotten, however, that Mason in the closes endeavoured to grapple him with no friendly intention, and to resist this he had recourse to an expedient which is anything but pleasant to the spectators. There is no law, however, against it, and he cannot, therefore, be blamed for following an example afforded him, not only by his own brother but by many men of long experience in the Ring. Taking him “all in all” his début has been highly creditable, and we have no doubt, if not overmatched or overworked, he will become an ornament to the P.R. The Bulldog fought, we think, even better than on former occasions on which we have seen him engaged. He used his left more handily than it has been our good fortune to witness in his former contests, and his counter-hitting with that hand was extremely severe, while his slogging right told with stunning effect on young Harry’s mug. Of throwing he has but little knowledge, although he possesses sufficient tact to evade the exercise of that talent on the part of his antagonist. Like all old ones who have felt the sting of repeated punishment, he could not resist the influence of hard knocks; and the body and the mind concurring in the opinion that “enough was as good as a feast,” and deeming discretion the better part of valour, he left off while he yet possessed sufficient self-possession to enjoy the satisfaction of knowing that he might have been worse beaten without being better off.
All now sought the ark, there to obtain the “creature comforts” which had hitherto been withheld. To the men every possible attention was paid, and a liberal subscription was collected for the loser. The battle-money was given up to Young Broome, at his brother’s house, in Air Street, Piccadilly, on the Wednesday of the following week.
The “breed” of young Harry being thus satisfactorily proved, his more experienced brother determined that he should turn gristle into bone before he again “sported buff” in the 24-foot, and more than a twelve-month elapsed ere he made an appearance within the ropes. This was on December 10, 1845, when he was matched for £50 a side against Joe Rowe, a well known East-ender, of 10½st., whose victory over Cullen, in 1844, had raised him to a high position among the middle weights.